C'est Qui Je Suis
by FictionalFaerie
Summary: Will has always been adaptable- a fact that comes in handy when he finds himself waking up from a nightmare to a startling revelation.


**Originally posted on AO3 under FictionalFaerie~  
Gift Fic for NikkiNeedsHelp (here) / DarlingNikki (AO3)**

He wakes up, thrashing even as he does, soaked and sobbing, eyes wide, breathing frantic.

Hannibal hums quietly, hand running gently down his back, and Will can hear him murmuring as he generally does when this occurs.

It's not, ideally, the way Will would want Hannibal to remember their first time ending- with Will having a nightmare unlike the ones he's had before on the nights they've spent together, even more vivid and violent. However, he's also pretty sure that he doesn't want his own memory of their first time involving realizing what he's just put together.

He manages to settle himself, listening to Hannibal and focusing on his breathing. He thinks to himself, trying to reason away the nightmare, trying to prove to himself all the reasons that Hannibal cannot possibly be...

He is still awake when the alarm goes off.

He tells Jack that he needs a vacation, just to clear his mind and get away from the crime scenes. Jack agrees with him, suggests a few places, volunteers to give him as much time as he needs.

When he leaves Jack, he finds himself growing more tense. He's not sure if it's in anticipation of the next conversation or the things left out of the last.

He tells Hannibal the same, adds in that Jack is a hundred percent behind it, manages not to cry. Hannibal does not agree with him, and while his chest tightens with worry that Hannibal may notice and argue, he eventually gives in.

When he leaves Hannibal, he finds himself crying. He tries not to think about that one.

Two weeks pass. Will doesn't turn his phone on, even once. He doesn't read any newspapers. There's no tv, no radio, nothing except the buzzing in his head.

He makes lists, on paper that he later burns to make sure that no one can stumble upon them.

The lists are always different... and yet, they tell him the exact same thing.

When he returns home, he checks in on his dogs. He knows Alana has been checking in on them (she, like Jack, supported his vacation full-heartedly. She, unlike Jack, begged him not to go back to work), but he knows that whatever happens next, he needs to see them right now. He tries not to think about how this might be the last time.

He has a key. He hasn't quite understood the weight of that until he puts it into the door and lets himself in.

It's only midday, and no one knew when to expect him back, so he knows he'll have plenty of time to think things over.

He hasn't lost time in a bit, maybe ten minutes here or there. The hallucinations are worse when they happen, but it's been a bit since he's had one. The nightmares are worse than ever, however.

He looks at the kitchen door and thinks that maybe, just maybe, he knows why.

He awakes to Hannibal sliding into the bed behind him, and for once he isn't worried that he doesn't remember getting there (he knows he came into the bedroom, he knows he hasn't been sleeping, he knows he sat down- he's really not surprised he fell asleep).

"I did not know that you would be back today. I would have canceled my appointments," Hannibal says into the back of his neck, lips moving gently against the skin. "I am pleased to find you here, though. The most pleasant of surprises."

Will turns, rolls so that his face is against Hannibal's neck, tucked into it.

"I trust your vacation was enjoyable?" Hannibal asks, hands roaming gently along his back.

Will nods.

"Where did you go?" Hannibal asks, and Will can hear something creeping into his voice, suspicion or worry or frustration or just his own paranoia projecting.

"How many people have you killed?" Will says in lieu of an answer.

He feels the way Hannibal tenses, just barely. There's a pause in which Will counts his own heartbeats. He won't let himself think about why.

"More than the FBI is aware of," Hannibal finally responds.

Will nods again.

They continue to lay there, and Will wonders if maybe Hannibal is waiting for him to make the next move as much as he's waiting on Hannibal to make the next move.

He awakes from a nightmare- a quiet one, leaving him twitching gently, with tears dried on his face already.

Hannibal isn't in the bed, so he stands up and heads toward the rest of the house- he decides on the kitchen. Sure enough, Hannibal stands at the counter, chopping vegetables. When he sees Will, he inclines his head in greeting.

"I thought, perhaps, something vegetarian might be a wise choice," he says quietly, watching as Will enters the room.

Will can't seem to do anything but nod.

The silence is heavy, broken only by Will's uneven breaths and the clack of Hannibal's over sharp knife against the cutting board.

"Are you going to turn me in, Will?" Hannibal finally asks. "Should I be packing bags and figuring out my alibis?"

"I... I made a lot of lists. Reasons I should turn you in. Reasons I should kill you. Reasons I should kill myself. Every possible... every, um, every possible outcome for every possible scenario I can... come up with." He runs a hand through his hair, snorting out through his nose roughly before he continues, "Every list ended with- well, every list determined that of all my choices, you are always the most appealing. I don't... I don't know where I stand unless you're in the picture."

Hannibal looks up at that, eyes sharp and searching.

"So, no. I don't... I won't be turning you in."

"I will not stop the things I do, Will. Not even for you," Hannibal responds, an eyebrow raising elegantly.

"And I won't stop doing what I do. I won't stop helping Jack. So, uh, just don't... don't make them ask me if it could be you, okay?"

Hannibal purses his lips, "I have done well so far, and I have no intentions of changing that either."

Will nods, walking over, sliding his hands around Hannibal's waist and resting his head against his shoulder blades.

He's not sure where they go from here, but... well, he's always been adaptable.


End file.
